


Two Pairs of Eyes

by thwax



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6004005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thwax/pseuds/thwax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an old face from times gone by sitting at Draco's bar.  To be safe, he should stay well away, but a debt is owed to those intoxicating green eyes and despite the reservations of his sire, he must find out where a conversation will lead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Pairs of Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Beren for betaing this for me. She mentioned Vampire Draco, and it just sounded so tempting. Oh yes, and I blame the presence of a certain character completely on my foundation-rocking revelation about which pairing I should be writing, and yes, he's pissed off too! ::g::

He watched him, sat at the bar, staring resolutely at his drink. It had been a long time since he had seen that dark hair and those doleful green eyes, a long time in both years and experience, and he recognised the new depths in them: even in the dim light of the club, his club, the owner could still see the sadness in that fixed stare, the pain of war, and none had sacrificed more for the side of those who claimed they worked for good than the Boy Who Lived; their knight who would be the Dark Lord's doom.

He didn't look much like a warrior now, well not to most, he looked like a tired man, older than his twenty-something years, weighed down and looking for a way out: that was why they were all watching him, every eye in the place was on him, and the mortal knew it. Yet, on the outside, he was calm, unafraid, only his solitary heart beat, racing and clear against the rhythmic music, gave his terror away: so maybe he was a true warrior after all.

"You are surely not considering that," a voice spoke acidly behind him, and the watcher smiled as he recognised old feelings in his companion.

"Yes, Sire, I am considering _that_ ," he returned, letting his smile be seen.

"He always was trouble," was the opinion, and a palm came to rest on his shoulder, holding protectively.

It had been a long time since he had needed his maker's protection, but he was grateful for it none-the-less and he rubbed the back of the hand and countered, "He is no more trouble than the war at our door. We cannot ignore it much longer, no matter what we feel for the humans. Only last week one of their battles destroyed Wolfgang's home; he was lucky to have escaped."

"Their fight, not ours," he was reminded tartly, but he just sighed and turned back to look at the man he knew would make it theirs. His sire tried again, "If he wants to play with our kind, let one of the others have him; he's pretty enough, it would not take long if you dropped your eye from him."

"I owe him a debt," Draco admitted heavily and recalled the last time he had seen those big emerald eyes looking sadly into his through the bars of a holding cell.

_"I'm sorry, I know you didn't kill Snape, but they won't believe me," Harry Potter had made the connection which was now keeping him off of any other vampire's menu._

"No debt is worth this risk. His fame could expose our entire society to them!"

"He already knows about us, else he would not be here, and he has not said anything. I found you. He has now found me," Draco argued, harder this time, defying the will that would have him abandon his principles. "I owe him enough to at least speak with him."

"Why did you let him find you?" the question was desperate, already knowing the battle was lost.

"For the same reasons you let me find you."

He broke away from his maker, a little angry at the old feud that coloured the conversation, but realising that it was mainly old thoughts which led his own motives as well. The dark eyes which looked back at him also showed their annoyance, but their owner said no more. Draco nodded to the thin-lipped, taut figure and silence gave him leave to do what he had to.

"Maybe we shall feast tonight," he tried to cajole with the hunger that was in them both, but the flash of eyes told him that this would be no ordinary get.

Giving up, he straightened his frockcoat and his demeanour, and stepped out into his domain. Here, he ruled, owner and law, respected by his peers and feared by lower echelons, championed by a sire whose reputation was more ruthless than his own. Draco surveyed his club, nodding to a few regulars, who raised their glasses in return, and then he moved in. His target was still fixated on his drink, swirling the contents in the low lights, apparently unaware of the interest of the rest of the customers. Yet, as he came to a halt a few feet behind his supposedly oblivious quarry, the immortal heard mortal breathing falter: so his instincts were as good as his reputation said they were. Draco waited. Slowly, that dark head came up out of the slouch into which it had been sunk, and the glass was placed back on the table; the human turned in his seat and enquiring eyes were levelled at him.

"Hello, Draco," Potter greeted evenly, despite the rise in his pulse that his old acquaintance detected.

"Harry, it's been a while," the host returned nonchalantly, and indicating to the empty seat beside him, asked, "May I?"

Harry nodded, and already, his companion detected his heartbeat settling. Maybe it was the sight of a familiar face, or maybe this man really was as fearless as reports suggested: Draco had kept half an eye on the war and its players; considering how many times Potter had faced Voldemort in the last few years, it was surprising that this one was alive, fear or no fear. He watched the human for a while, taking in the lack of style in his hair and the stubble on his face, but most of all the weariness in his eyes. The Boy Who Lived had become a man, but there had been a cost.

Idly, Draco wondered what this acquaintance from long ago saw in him, whose changes had been, in some respects, more dramatic. That green gaze was looking at his mouth: was he expecting fangs? The vampire's smiled widened, but not enough to really see. The response was a raise of eyes to meet the tease, saying it had been recognised, so Draco continued, "So, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Not many could look away when a vampire had them in its sights, but Draco was impressed when this one did, returning to look at his glass as he drew in a rapid breath.

"I need your help," Harry answered, as plain as he'd always been, and a glance showed his disquiet at that admission.

The host just continued to smile, waiting for more.

"I can't beat him," the warrior confessed, leaving Draco to his own conclusion as to who 'he' was, "not as I am."

"And you suppose I can help with this little problem, how?"

The human looked lost for a moment as his hint was not taken, but then his features hardened, and Draco saw the reason this one had survived so long. He was faced once more, cool steel in the wizard's demeanour, and he was told, "I need an advantage, your advantage. I have nothing to offer except myself, but turn me and let me stop the fighting and you can do what you want with me now and afterwards."

The vampire raised an eyebrow at the bargain before him. His sire had been right, this human was pretty in a rugged kind of way, a tempting prey, but he was no simple pickup; he was strong enough to survive the change, that much was obvious, he'd probably be a damn powerful vampire, given the power he wielded as a wizard, but he wanted to take that power outside of its society. Yet the vampire could not dismiss the idea as easily as he would have liked: he owed him a debt.

_"Put this on," Harry had whispered urgently, shoving a bundle through the bars as the guard walked in the opposite direction._

_Without really understanding what he was doing, Draco had done as he was told, pulling what turned out to be a cloak over his shoulders. He hadn't realised until he'd pulled the hood up and looked down at himself, that there was nothing to look at._

_"Guard!" his visitor had yelled urgently, "Guard, help! He's gone! He just vanished!"_

"I have to stop the fighting before it destroys everything," the man told him as if it explained all that must have led him to this decision.

"My sire and I share everything," Draco warned, still mulling the request without promising anything.

The mixture of hope and anxiety that appeared in his guest's bright green eyes made the idea all the more appealing. His nod of acquiescence was quick, torn, but definite.

"Whatever you want."

"Is this war all you are now, Harry Potter?" Draco challenged the sacrifice, seeking the self-willed boy who had risked everything for him.

"It has to be," Potter snarled back, but the watcher was glad to see some fire in his eyes, which reminded him of the spirit he remembered. "I have to end it. It -"

_"- isn't right, I'm sorry, but it's the best I can do," the youth had spoken softly as they had stood in the still London street._

_He had handed over a heavy purse, and offered, "This is all I could withdraw without them becoming suspicious, I hope it will help, and I know you're a good flyer, so you can take this," he'd handed over his prize broom as well. "Keep the cloak."_

_"Thank you," Draco had muttered, accepting the gifts with the same confusion with which he had followed his unhappy saviour out of the Ministry's holding cells._

"Why now?"

Harry looked surprised at the question, and there was frustration in his eyes as the offer hung between them.

"Because I've found you," came the gruff answer.

"But why were you looking in the first place?"

The human's pulse sped up a little again, and Draco smiled at him as colour came to his cheeks. Yet again though, he seemed willing to do what was necessary to gain consent, and the vampire listened as he was told directly, "I'd hoped you'd made it somewhere safe when the reports of sightings dried up, but I always kept an eye out for anything new. I got a report last year that had a rumour of a white-blond vampire setting up in London, and I thought it might be you. I did some digging and decided that you could be a way for me to beat Voldemort."

"So you cared what happened to your charity case?" Draco pushed some more, still undecided about the attractive man before him.

The embarrassed silence that followed told him how much Harry had cared.

"Do you find me attractive?" the vampire decided to be direct.

The answer, male or female, was usually yes, but Draco was faced with a wide-eyed stare: he just continued to smile intimately and waited. He had forgotten how bashful Gryffindors could be about their sexuality, but he wanted an answer; nothing else really mattered. The shock took a while to wear off, and Harry's breath was still coming fast as he admitted, "Yes." Then he looked away, unsure of himself. Something else occurred to the experienced seducer as he watched the colour still in the handsome profile, and he asked with some disbelief, "Harry, are you a virgin?"

There was less shock this time, but the warrior would not look up as he answered, "Yes."

"This war really is all you are," Draco observed, not really meaning to be cruel, but knowing that his words hurt. Still, he knew what he needed to know, and he announced his decision with, "Come."

The proprietor walked back through his club, not waiting to see if his guest would follow: he would.

~

His sire was angry with him; Draco knew that as soon as he walked back into the office, and he also knew who the scapegoat was going to be. He stepped aside and let the inevitable happen. Harry didn't stand a chance as he walked into the dim room; warrior or not, he was no match for an enraged vampire, and he only managed a strangled gasp as claw took him around the neck and slammed him into the wall.

"Potter," the dominant creature sneered, as hands grabbed his iron wrist and struggled to stop the slow strangulation.

Draco's human visage disappeared in tandem with his master's as the power being displayed took him along with it. This was the face that had seduced him, long dark hair surrounding ruthless features, eyes glowing from within and fangs bared; he had barely recognised it then, and it still conjured excitement in him now as he saw the same disbelief echoed in their victim.

"Snape?" Potter choked, his struggles weakening with every gasp.

"Not as dead as reported to be," the vampire lorded the revelation over his prey. However, his triumph was dwarfed by his anger as he accused, "How dare you bring this war to us?!"

Harry slammed into the wall again as an answer was not immediately given, and his eyes rolled in his head.

"He can't answer if he's dead," Draco objected as he saw his prize failing on him.

Severus snarled at him, a warning not to interfere, and he could be a vicious brute sometimes, so his childe maintained his distance, but he would not lose the human so easily.

"Torture him later, let him answer now."

The appeal worked, as with another growl, his sire dropped their get; Harry collapsed into a heap, coughing, but shortly he impressed his host again as he sent a defiant glare at his attacker. Severus crossed his arms and smiled nastily before prompting, "Well?"

"It's already here," the wizard returned and flattened his torso against the wall as the still angry vampire took a step back towards him; he gabbled on, "Voldemort has been recruiting your kind for three years, and the Ministry is investigating. That's how I found out about Draco. The only way to stop them from coming after you is to have one of your own kill their enemy."

"Don't threaten us, Potter," Severus warned coldly.

"That was a heads up, not a threat," the soldier returned, recovering some equilibrium in his glare as he slowly stood up.

Draco watched as human and vampire glared at each other from opposite sides of more than just the room. The conflict excited him; he could feel his master's indignance at this mere human's defiance. Yet his sire was not illogical in his retribution, and he let go of the beast in the face of useful information, which, in turn, soothed the heat in his childe.

"And if one of us has to kill Voldemort, why should it be you?" Severus questioned, his eyes narrowing as he assessed his subject.

"Because he must die by my hand or I by his," Harry spat back, hands on hips as he faced down the anger. "So far we've reached stalemate every time, he can't kill me and I can't kill him. You can give me the edge I need to finish this once and for all."

"Big words," the old adversary sneered.

"I have to try!" the man yelled, taking his own step forward as rage got the better of caution.

Severus didn't move, but his face showed that deep down where he wouldn't admit to it, the courage had won. He looked down his nose at the upstart, resentment old and new in his face, and Draco knew this was not going to be easy, but at least homicide was off the list for now.

"Take your clothes off."

Harry stared at the order from the sire and then looked to the childe for confirmation. Draco nodded at him, his own passions liking the idea. The man looked back at his tormentor, aghast, and was told, "I want to see what we'll be getting before I decide whether to kill you or not."

The colour returned to his cheeks as Harry was faced with stripping, but the shock which sent throbs out from Draco's groin as he watched it, became another glare; his pulse was racing again, the vampire could feel it, as the human pulled off his glasses, kicked off his shoes and shrugged his jacket to the floor: Draco licked his lips with anticipation; Severus revealed nothing but dominance as he watched. Their victim was only wearing a t-shirt under the light jacket, and the curve of his muscled chest showed through. Draco couldn't resist, as fingers began awkwardly pulling the cloth out of waistband, he moved forward and took hold of it.

"Let me help you with that," he made the offer that couldn't be refused and met the wonderfully unsure gaze. "Raise you arms," he instructed.

Potter let go of the fabric, but took longer to acquiesce to the position; he was unsteady as he finally lifted his arms. Draco stroked the body that had attracted him as he rucked up the shirt, enjoying the shivers that responded to him. The reality of what he had agreed to was in his victim's eyes which were anywhere but on his companion, and, for a moment, not trusting his own resolve, the vampire hid that doleful look with cloth. When it returned, he gave himself no chance to take it in, instead, he let the shirt hold his victim a while longer; Draco took charge of the taut body and covered human lips with his own. Partially trapped in his clothing, Harry froze like that, taken by surprise, his mouth closed and unresponsive. Yet there was heat in this body; Draco had seen it in the admission of attraction back at the bar, otherwise they wouldn't have been here, and he pulled his would-be lover in to him and broke the kiss as he whispered, "Try it."

Harry remained awkward when the kiss was resumed, but the board up his back bent a little. The vampire stroked his get's spine, his long nails teasing the skin, and he absorbed the trembles into his own body, letting them wake his passions. When lips parted a fraction, he ran his teeth over one: the response was a small catch of sound in throat, but it was enough to encourage the seducer. Harry shifted more strongly, freeing himself from the hold of cloth, and the hold of his inhibitions, and as he sensed the change, Draco increased his attentions. Human erection pulsed next to immortal arousal as the attraction between the two was answered.

The inexperienced lover could do little more than hold onto his partner and accept the caress which opened his mouth further, and traced red lines over his torso, but Draco was happy with the leading role, enjoying the naivete that he could mould into what he wanted. He smiled through the kiss and his passions leapt up as he heard the thick sound of his sire's order: "All his clothes."

Harry responded with a judder of his body, and a small grunt of defiance, however, he did not resist as the vampire moved to obey his master. Draco turned their embrace and pushed it up against his desk. He indulged in the kiss a little longer, enjoying the lack of control in his lover that was growing with each brush of tongue, but Draco could feel his sire's eyes on his back, and he knew that Severus would not wait forever. Part of him fancied the violence that would ensue if his master's patience was tested, but he wanted this to go on more than a few minutes, he liked the feel of this human: the suppressions that made him tremble at every stroke; the awakening desires that would lead him to conclusion of this night far more willingly than any sense of duty that had brought him to the club.

Pulling his body back a little way, Draco reached for Harry's fly. The virgin gasped at the touch, and his heart skipped a beat, but he did not fight, instead, he grabbed the edges of the table. His trembling was almost constant now, tension and desire in a glorious cocktail which Draco mixed expertly. Once the fastenings were undone, he gave his lover no chance to object as he took all remaining cloth in both hands and slid it downwards. Harry shook, but he stayed where he had been put as all modesty was removed, and his eyes showed his vulnerability as he looked down at the kneeling controller. Draco smiled at him and ran his palms back up the now naked legs, spreading them: those big green eyes closed and his lover's chest rose and fell in irregular rhythm. The childe glanced over at his sire, his hands circling on shivering thighs, displaying everything for the watcher. Severus never showed much emotion, even when aroused he could be a cold bastard, but Draco had learnt to read his eyes, and they held appreciation for what they were seeing.

Following his instincts, Draco focused back on human arousal. Trepidation had dampened things somewhat, but the vampire just grinned more widely as he anticipated the extra work he would relish.

"Oh Merlin!" Harry murmured, his words breathy with disbelief as his seducer ran his fingers into the dark hair above his genitals.

The cock in front of him twitched and Draco responded. Finesse could wait for later, Draco wanted to claim his new lover, and he enveloped the waiting shaft with his mouth. The exclamation from his partner, and the unsteady shudder told the vampire just how totally inexperienced this man was: the sense of power that knowledge gave him flooded through his system. Semi-hard became fully hard in a few glorious strokes, and Draco revelled in the groans that followed each movement. His human rocked his hips into the caress, surrendering to it: Draco increased his attentions. Orgasm brought with it a cry of shock and delight, and the vampire claimed the first taste of his get as it was freely released into his mouth.

Every human tasted different; this one was a little sweet as well as salty, and Draco got back to his feet as he savoured the flavour. He gazed into half closed eyes, enjoying the dazed look which spoke of the new place to which he had taken his victim. Yet, he had to share, and before the taste was gone completely, the childe abandoned his victim and walked over to his sire and offered it. Their kiss was more leisurely than the frenzy of the new, a caress of familiarity, but one which never failed to send shots of desire down Draco's back. He opened his mouth wide, taking testing tongue over his own, letting his master have what he wanted. Severus would always be master, no matter how long they had together, and his power brought out Draco's heat far more swiftly than any human.

Yet, they were not alone, and his sire would not let go, and before he could surrender to the fire in his veins, Draco was pushed away. He pouted at Severus, but the vampire's intense gaze slipped over his shoulder and hardened on their guest. The younger vampire turned and grinned once more at the flushed, but now steady gaze which was watching them: he hadn't moved from where he'd been put, and he was trying to hide the vulnerability of being naked, but Draco liked it. This prize was going to be fun.

He walked up to his get and deliberately parted his legs once more to stand between them. Harry didn't resist, but looked right into the dominating stare.

"Did you enjoy that, Harry?" he asked silkily.

The answer did not come vocally as he was expecting, however; one moment Harry was staring at him, slightly lost, the next, sparks flared in his eyes and then there were lips on Draco's. The vampire would have been more than a match for the mild demand, but the press of mouth on his was not unexciting, and he chose to respond. However, his sire had other ideas about upstart humans. Harry cried out in pain as he was pulled sideways out of the embrace by a claw in his hair. He didn't stand a chance as he was thrown at the curtained doorway at the back of the room. He landed in a heap halfway through the draped opening and glared back at Severus.

"Upstairs," the vampire ordered, taking no notice of the hostility.

"Don't break him before the fun's really begun," Draco whispered as he watched their victim get to his feet.

"I'll break what I want," was the succinct, and rather jealous reply.

~

Harry had backed up the stairs, watching his leisurely pursuers all the way; Draco had admired the way his muscles worked as he had crouched defensively, his skin already glistening from the past exertions. Yet his stance had not saved him from another attack by Severus. The human had struck out when he had been advanced upon, but immortal speed had caught the punch, and strength had taken control. Still he had growled and struggled, unafraid of the power that held him, and Draco had to admit he was enjoying the show. His sire's cool presence erotically contrasted the maddened resistance and the childe stood at the end of the bed, watching hungrily as their get was subdued.

Severus lifted Harry bodily onto the mattress, pressing him down, holding both hands and climbing on to his legs to prevent his kicks. Harry objected, his hatred of his holder in his face as he tried to lift himself up off the mattress, but he didn't have a hope.

"Surrender," Severus ordered, capturing even his victim's gaze as he gloried in the power that was his.

The human fought for a few moments longer, but the futility of it was in his defeat as in fits he relaxed into the hold. Breathing hard, he glared silently up at his oppressor.

"Better," the vampire told him, "now, lay still."

Severus did not release his captive immediately, he waited for some of the resistance to ebb away before he let go and climbed off the bed. Harry watched him as he walked back to Draco, his resentment showing, but he did not move. Draco looked into the power the tussle had put in his master's features, and smiled at it. Severus kissed him again, and then told him, "Childe, prepare him for me."

"Yes, Sire," the made deferred to his maker.

Harry had propped himself up on his elbows by the time both vampires turned back to him, and Draco would have enjoyed the hungry look he was being given, but Severus had given an order, and its disobedience drew a warning growl of, "Down!"

Glowering once more, but heeding the bruises he already had, the human flopped back onto the mattress and then aimed his attention at the ceiling. If focus had been on him, Draco would have taken his time undressing, but as it was, he stripped quickly, and, fetching some supplies from a drawer, decided to gain Harry's full interest once more. Aware of their watcher again, Draco climbed onto the bed and displayed himself for both parties. Despite the obvious anger in his subject, Draco could still see the attraction in him hovering behind the peevishness, and he went straight for it. With one finger, he beckoned his lover into a sitting position, and before he had steadied himself, pulled him into an embrace. Irritation dropped away into the same uncontrolled desire that Draco had already released once in his partner, and knowing he faced no resistance, the vampire pushed them both back down onto the bed.

Draco felt the body below him mould to his, and he ran his hand down the thigh which came around the outside of his: Harry murmured his pleasure. He proceeded to stroke and caress his lover, enjoying every press of torso as he found erogenous zones that made his partner groan with desire. The human had forgotten his resistance entirely by the time the vampire broke the kiss and began to press his lips onto the damp chest: he lay compliant and willing, his deep eyes closed as Draco dragged his tongue over his skin, tasting the salt and looking forward to later. The anticipation was just a little too much, and, on impulse, the vampire nipped at the flesh over one rib. His partner started, and the noise in his throat spoke of surprise, but not displeasure, and it turned into a moan of delight as he licked the small break in the skin.

The tiny taster sent more desire through the vampire than any simple erotic act, and he closed his eyes as he let his beast run free. He laughed at the power in him, and the life below him as one reached for the other: it was intoxicating. He wanted this human, he wanted to make him his own, and he knew that he too was wanted. Yet, his reverie was interrupted by a low, possessive warning of, "Childe."

Draco opened his eyes and looked to his maker. Severus would say no more, he did not need to as the younger put away his immortal wonts. This had to last, he wanted it to last, and he returned to mortal desires. Harry looked up at him as he knelt back, asking for more, and with a lick of his lips, he told him, "Turn over."

The anxiety in the reaction to the instruction was exquisite, and Draco reached out to stroke nervous torso. He was happy to take his time.

"Over!" the order came from the end of the bed, and Harry wasn't the only one to glare this time.

"Let me do this," he countered the command, but Severus was not relinquishing his control, and he stared down both lovers.

"You're a bastard, Snape," Harry revealed that he didn't know Severus' temper very well yet, and was on his front, a knee in the curve of his back before he could really object.

"Don't defy me, Human," the vampire told him, causing a grunt of pain as he pressed hard on the fragile spine.

The savagery spoke to Draco, speeding the immortal pulse that his sire had given him, waking his desires still further. Yet, for the first time, he knew that beat of the night was not in perfect tune with Severus'. His own will interrupted the admiration of the power in his master, a will that made him dislike the way the stronger vampire had taken over. Their victim lay still, having learnt from last time that fighting did not pay, and Severus' pique subsided. With a final dig, he climbed back off the bed and Draco watched as his lover relaxed: he ignored Severus for now, not trusting what would be in his eyes if he acknowledged him. He did not touch the human again immediately, instead, he picked up his wand that he had placed to one side, and cast a cleansing spell. Harry shifted once as the magic touched him, but Draco missed the fire that his master seemed determined to bash out of their get. He would find it again.

Harry's eyes were closed when Draco moved, but he tensed as his legs were straddled, revealing that Severus had undone much of the preparation work. Gently, the lover rubbed his hands up over static torso and soothed, "Relax."

It was going to take more than words, and Draco picked up the massage oil. Without warning, he held the pot up high and dribbled a few drops into the dip where his sire's knee so recently had been. Harry drew in a gasp of air, and then sighed as palms pressed over the lubricant. Ignoring the heavy, impatient stare of his master, the childe began the massage.

~

Draco had Harry compliant and relaxed, moving into every touch once more by the time he turned his attention back to the direct preparation Severus had ordered. He took his time over the teasing he was applying to his lover's inner thighs, enjoying the groans as he rubbed his thumbs close to the sensitive skin between them. Yet, when he rubbed up over Harry's buttocks, his partner drew in a hasty breath.

"You're ready," Draco told him, stroking over them and parting them ever so slightly.

It took a couple more massages, but the tension went away, and Draco ran his slick fingers down the cleft. Harry actually lifted his hips into the caress, and he took the hint. His lover moaned as Draco began circling one finger around his entrance, pressing against it and testing. When he made the final move, and slid inside, the moan became a long, pleasure-filled groan. He moved the digit in and out, feeling the strong muscles gradually relax and allow him more progress, and he revelled in the control. He was erect himself as he let through mortal desires, and the strength of the passion this familiar human created in him made Draco direct. Without hesitation, he picked up the dildo he had brought from the drawer with his free hand, and activated the spell to lubricate it. The withdrawal of his finger was met with a small complaint, but that soon caught in Harry's throat as Draco pressed the larger object against the waiting muscle-ring.

Slowly, the preparer applied pressure, and his own libido was running riot as he listened to the disbelieving desire in his lover's voice as the greater demand was made. He wanted to take him now, to replace the toy with himself, and as he moved it with more confidence, his glance across at his sire was resentful of the mastery there; he did not want to prepare the way for another, he wanted this one for himself. Severus' smile said he saw everything and knew he controlled it, no matter what his childe's feelings. Draco looked away again, to his gasping, intoxicating partner, and surrendered him to the way of things before his bitterness grew too much, with, "He's ready."

"Then take him," his sire rumbled, and drew a dilated stare; the look returned was indulgent, if not totally happy, and Severus told him, "This one is yours."

Draco didn't know what had changed his master's mind, but he did not need a second leave. Harry moved to follow the withdrawal of the toy, growling at its loss, but his sound became a helpless cry as he was breached by flesh instead. Draco buried himself slowly, but deeply, claiming his prize with a low snarl that announced his claim: Harry writhed with the touch, and surrendered to the right which owned him. Sure in his control, Draco waited for the movement to stop, letting his own arousal build with the dependent shifts and starts that his penetration was causing, and only as they stilled did he inspire more.

Immortal and mortal wonts could not be separated any longer: the two pulses danced around each other inside the vampire as he began to move. Harry gasped and struggled with the new sensation, lost in it as Draco wanted him to be: power was his, and Draco embraced it. His claws dug into vulnerable hips, holding the body where he wanted it to be, mastering the contact and drawing out the pleasure. Slowly at first, but then with growing intention, he built the fire in his veins, asking and then demanding the passion out of his lover. His partner's heart beat mixed with his cries and the helpless responses drew the vampire to climax. His sharp nails drew blood as he thrust into his lover one last time: hard and brooking no restraint, he forced the scream of pain and pleasure out of Harry, and the frenzy of need in that sound took him over the edge. Human passion drew out the night's power to its fullest, and the vampire's roar drowned all else. This man was his.

His get whined as the vampire withdrew, and then collapsed, panting onto the mattress. He did not resist as he was turned over, and just looked up into the power of the night, human lust sated, but vampire needs only just beginning. Draco bent down and kissed the parted lips, puncturing one with his sharp fangs; his victim started, but willingly shared the blood that mingled between their mouths. The salty fluid woke the instincts of one, and told the other of what was to come. As his get trembled, the childe broke their embrace and looked to his sire.

"Share him with me," he invited, holding out a hand to the bond that he had forgotten for a while.

Severus' smile was deep and full of his fierce devotion to his childe as he strode over and took the offered hand which pulled him down onto the bed. Draco kissed his master again, sharing the taste of their victim once more, and his fire built at the way his lips were licked clean. When he drew back, his sire's power ran through him, calling to the night, making him wilder as it never failed to do, and he was alive with the pulse that was back in time. They did not need to exchange any more words, they always shared the blood, and, male or female, sustainer or get, they knew each other's preferences.

Draco watched as Severus moved to their victim's head; there was still defiance in those green eyes as they looked up at the strength being displayed, but there was no more fight. The vampire smiled as he recognised the surrender, and the gentleness it inspired in his sire. Now their get was afraid, facing the pact that he had made, facing the transformation from which there was no going back, and for the first time, Severus showed compassion for that fear. He said nothing, but his hands were gentle as he ran one under Harry's neck and steadied his shoulder with the other.

The childe wanted this man so badly it was hurting him, and he showed his need to his sire when that dark gaze gave him leave to take up his own position. Their get saw it as well, his anxiety at such abandon making him take hold of the strong wrist at his shoulder. The fear only increased Draco's desire, as the primeval instincts for the hunt told him his prey was within his grasp; rarely did he let himself succumb to the powerful base of his being, but this was a get, not a sustainer, he could drain this one without qualms, and he let his hunger run free as he took hold of tense thigh.

Severus liked the neck, it was where he had bitten his childe, where he always met his need, but Draco had discovered an intimacy he enjoyed far more, and he stroked his fingers over the inside of his victim's leg, drawing out another surrender as he spread him once more. A last look at those mortal eyes was all that the vampire needed, and, one with his master, he bent to take his fill. He heard the gasp and felt the start as his fangs broke vulnerable flesh, but he held his source fast, and sweet life-blood poured into his mouth: nothing else mattered then as his immortal heartbeat thundered in all his senses. Raw, untamed power far greater than any spell ran through his veins: this was what he was, all of him, unfettered by the human facade that kept him from discovery.

Draco drank deeply, drawing more than just blood from his get. He took the struggle, the disbelief, the pain of his bite and as his relentless demand continued, he drank of the surrender as muscles relaxed, and breath grew shallow: he felt mortal life begin to fail. As the human's heartbeat began to slow, the vampire finally drew back and looked to his sire. Severus took longer to break the deathly embrace, and he cradled the weak body against his own as he knelt up. The childe felt the possession begin in his belly again as he looked at the get that rightly belonged to the more powerful vampire. Severus recognised it, and frowned, his eyes glowing with domination as he was challenged, however the subordinate did not look away: he wanted this man.

The sire tested him, a growl warning him to stay back, but Draco hid nothing from him, he showed him the need that this human inspired in him; on the verge of Harry's forever, he let Severus see the connection to times past which meant more than he would have admitted even moments ago. The adversarial glare in his master's eyes slowly softened, not to understanding exactly, but realisation, of what, Draco didn't care, as a hand was held out to him.

"Your wrist," Severus prompted as he failed to respond immediately.

Draco smiled as his sire retained control of the bonding, even as he relinquished his rightful part in it, and, with a gratitude he would never be able to fully express, he submitted to the bite which drew his own blood. He had felt Severus' teeth many times since their first encounter, his mood was normally discernable from the way he broke flesh, but Draco could not decide if the rip that made him pay a little for his defiance was due to anger or concern. He was given no chance to contemplate it, as, swiftly the wound was lowered to the dying human and, along with it, his attention.

"Drink," Severus ordered, squeezing the bloody tear mercilessly against slack lips.

Draco watched as his own power dripped into the slightly open mouth, waiting, needing the contact that would come with the offering. When the first movement of lips against his flesh came, the feeling was exquisite, and the vampire laughed. His life ran through him, intense, heady, and with the first swallow, it coursed into his get as well. He had never felt this before, never given of his being to make a new immortal, and the rush as a mortal heartbeat took hold of him made him groan. His sire's hold on his wrist merely tightened, clamping him in place as his human drank: he wouldn't have pulled away, not now. Yet it was not for the now that the experienced sire held him: the rush was just the beginning. Without warning, the making started in earnest, and the young vampire reared.

"Merlin, no!" he worded his disbelief as a human mind opened to him, pulsing up the link he had made, searching out the power that surrounded it.

This was the heady time he did not remember during his own making; this was the true nature of the bond between sire and childe, and it was so painful. Severus had always curled around his few gets during this process, silent in his agony; Draco screamed his knowledge. The torture of new birth shook both maker and made, one barely conscious, his thoughts ripping into the other whose awareness was acute enough to split his being. Nothing made sense on a logical level: feelings and emotion from a lifetime drowned the vampire, smothering him, wanting everything that he was. Just as the human had surrendered to the might which had drained him, so too, the vampire gave in to the demand of the link.

Mind moulded with mind, power with power, and the night took what it needed to replace death with its own form of life.

When he thought he could take no more, more was yet exacted from him and all Draco could do was survive it. His pulse thundered in his ears, and it was being joined by a new rhythm, close to his own, but not quite the same. In agonised wonder he recognised his childe, his made, and it no longer mattered what price had to be paid. And then there was no more.

Shuddering and gasping, Draco came out of the union, and before he could really think once more, his sire had left his own side of the bed and wrapped him in his arms. As he looked down on his unconscious childe, his own blood still on unmoving lips, the maker was glad of the possessiveness that held him close, reminding him that he was not alone in the responsibility he had taken on. Slowly, he let go of the beast, coming down from the high that had given him claim on the new life and listened to both pulse which would always be part of him. He understood the hold which supported him now, he felt the bond as a sire for the first time: the innate need to protect, and the power of duty.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, a little afraid of the immensity of such a link.

"It can't be explained, and it isn't always like this," Severus returned, wrapping his robes closer and kissing Draco's neck, but the childe heard the pain in his voice he was trying to hide: his maker had killed his own sire, the creature who had taken him without his consent, who had been given him by those who had discovered their spy, and who had wanted him as a slave. Yet this was not about Severus' past, and the wiser man prompted, "When did you decide you loved him?"

"From the first moment I saw him," Draco confessed with a relief he hadn't known he had needed. He leant more heavily against his holder, and continued, "He was stood there with his eyes wide, amazed at everything he was seeing, and I tried to be impressive. When he rejected me, I decided to hate him instead. I didn't think it was still there. Did you know, is that why you let me have him?"

"He would never have obeyed me: one of us would have killed the other, and he has enough killing to do."

Draco shifted in the hold, wanting to see the expression which went with that observation, but as he turned, his enquiry was met by a press of lips. Without hesitation, childe surrendered to sire and opened to the embrace. He loved this creature too, the vampire who had let him find him, and had taken him to him, and he would refuse him nothing. The touch on his back was gentle, but insistent: Severus had done enough watching for one night, and Draco capitulated to the push which placed him down beside his oblivious childe. He pouted as the kiss was broken, and his lover's hands abandoned him, but it was merely a tease as he looked up and across at his proud master and waited as he shed his garments.

Some in their society thought Severus savage, and he could certainly be ruthless with those who displeased him, but even when he had been on the receiving end, Draco had never failed to be captivated by the strength which sat behind the cool exterior. In public, his sire clothed himself in garments which hid the hard curve of his body, and its athletic height had surprised his get the first night he had seen it. He was long, and elegant and Draco's passion rose again as he was shown uninhibited arousal.

As he climbed back onto the bed, Severus smiled at him, a deep sign of his lust and his affection, and Draco took the memory of it as he closed his eyes and waited. His sire was in a direct mood, that much had been obvious from the look on his face, but how direct came as a shock when swift hands lifted his abdomen off the bed and slick cock was pushed against his anus. The surprise made him tight, but then that was what Severus had intended as he reinforced his dominant position with the immediate demand. Draco groaned and reared as he was speared hard and fast, his pulse racing in time with his master's. So it had been anger which had torn his wrist: he could feel it in the drive which had him impaled. Yet Severus didn't scare him, he never scared him, no matter how possessively brutal he could be, and the childe met his sire's rage with a wildness that egged it on.

"Sire," he acknowledged before his voice was lost to another deep moan, and he was given no further chance to speak things right.

Severus wanted him, all of him: his thrusts took what they wanted and were given everything that Draco could offer. He held nothing back: he let his near silent master see the pain that made him pant and the ecstasy which drowned it only a moment later. Draco followed where Severus led, knowing the familiar path, and when he felt the summit reached, he tightened, holding his lover's orgasm fast, wallowing in the sensations that shook them both.

The childe hung on until the last tremble left his sire's body. As much as had been demanded of him, he didn't want the claim to stop, and it was with reluctance when hands gently rubbed his hips that he relaxed away and allowed himself to be lain back on the bed. He reached needily for his lover and he knew his defiance of the order of things had been forgiven as a body lay down against the mould into which he made himself. He ran his fingers into the long, thick hair, sweeping it back from the hooked features that he had always found severely attractive and he looked into sad eyes. He had fallen in love with two expressive gazes, the first had given him power, the second has drawn it from him, and regret of the second was so heavy in the first.

"Share him with me," Draco offered again, but the reply was a kiss that neither accepted, nor rejected the proposal. Still, the embrace was wonderfully tender, and he let the easy intimacy allay his concern for as long as it lasted.

~

Draco woke as the body in front of him moved very rapidly away and nearly ripped the arm he had placed protectively around it out of its socket. He sat up, ignoring the groan from Severus behind him, who just rolled over and buried his head, and he peered into the dim light that was escaping into the room around the heavy curtains. Harry was stood a few feet away from the bed, his lovely eyes round with alarm as he held his body like he was scared of himself. The sire smiled and let out a small sigh of protective concern: so the instruction began. He had not panicked quite so dramatically when he had come out of the making stupor, but he remembered the strangeness in the new senses and the loss of mortal life-signs. Calmly, he climbed out of bed and slid his arms around the statuesque hysteria.

"It's alright, Childe," he soothed, stroking gently, "you are not dead, just differently alive."

"I'm cold," Harry worried, still taut in the embrace.

"Because we omitted to pull the covers over ourselves, and the temperature dropped," Draco laughed lightly, kissing the shivering neck. "We are as warm blooded as the next creature; forget any ideas about walking corpses. I did not feel cold to you last night, did I?"

Harry shook his head and relaxed a little, his foolishness on his face.

"I feel so different," he admitted, his tone small and frightened.

"You are different," Draco met the concern with the wonder that the changes had evolved in him; the gaze that looked into his was dubious, but he didn't back down as he explained, "You are stronger, faster: you will never age. Forget about sunlight, a little uncomfortable, but nothing a nice heavy cloak won't cure: stakes, well they'll take out anyone if you go for the heart, but you'll survive a lot more spells and weapons than any mortal: killing you just became a whole lot harder. You can beat him now."

The last observation did more than any other, and Draco was glad as he saw the spark of the warrior in his childe's eyes once more. The fire inspired more than just gladness in the sire, and he caressed Harry's buttock suggestively as he changed tack, "The rest can wait, now come back to bed."

The dubious look was back, and Harry glanced at the slumbering form of Severus: Draco's smile deepened and he teased, "You weren't so bothered about an audience last night."

"Last night, I didn't have a choice," came right back at him, but Draco ignored the bitterness which had edges that were anything but bitter. He squeezed the arse he had been stroking, and brought his other hand round behind Harry's head.

"Are you rejecting me, Childe?" he asked, letting out some of the superiority that was his right.

"Draco, don't," Harry provided his distinctly peeved opinion, and broke away.

"Strictly, you should refer to me as, Sire, now," Draco informed his tetchy subordinate, and the look that came back at him said how impressed Harry was with that: he sighed, it would take time, but eventually his childe would understand, but for now, he observed, "Well, yes, from you, that is probably asking a bit much."

Harry turned away, pouting very attractively, and Draco decided that he wasn't giving up. He walked up behind his lover and wrapped his arms around him once more.

"Come back to bed," he tried again, pressing close and kissing Harry's shoulder; he wasn't resisted, and he smiled at the small success, but he didn't attempt to move back to the mattress, he just continued to fondle.

His partner let his hands wander in cold silence for a while, but Draco could feel Harry's stance loosening with every drag of nail on skin, and eventually a small admission of pleasure came from between resentful lips. As he heard it, the sire took control of his childe once more and turned him around. That was all it took, and Draco opened his mouth as his kiss was met halfway.

~

Draco watched his childe as he dressed, knowing that their time was up for now. It had been three days, seventy two long, heady hours since Harry Potter had walked back into his life, but now he had taught him enough to commence the hunt that could be his destruction, and he had to return to the mortal world. A sudden wave of protection shook the sire's foundations as he thought about the risk his loved-one would be taking, and swiftly he stood and dragged him in to an embrace. Harry didn't resist, he never fought the heated touch, but this time he was less enthusiastic about returning it. His lips parted, and he was tasted, but Draco could feel the dampening sadness in his body.

"I have something of yours," he countered any melancholy in himself and went to a chest of drawers.

Reverently he pulled out the long-ago gift which had saved his life on many occasions when he had been running from the threat of the Dementer's kiss.

"It's time you had it back," he held out the invisibility cloak to its owner, and told him, "Thank you."

"I never expected to see this again," Harry mused, taking the cloth in both hands and stroking it; his smile confused his watcher for a moment, but then it was made clear as he was told, "It was my father's."

"Which he used for mischief, no doubt," Severus made his sour presence known as he walked into the room (he had never been far away since Harry's making, keeping an eye on the novice sire and childe).

Draco was glad of his presence, however grumpy, as he offered support, but Harry stiffened, his hostility for the difficult man in his manner. Severus seemed satisfied by his effect on Harry, but was less impressed when Draco placed an arm protectively around his lover.

"Come to make sure I leave?" Harry growled defensively.

"Stop it," Draco warned before either party could instigate a quarrel, and surprisingly, his appeal held the adversaries at bay. "Harry," he drew his lover's attention, "go and win your war," he dismissed and then discovered that his childe's enthusiasm for an embrace had returned. Draco's concern mixed with his passion and made the kiss emphatic. He tasted blood as his teeth caught Harry's lip, and it fired all his instincts as the imprint of his creation slipped down his throat, but it was his childe who felt them, and pushed him away before they became too much. Harry's eyes were glowing a rich emerald as the blood awakened his own passions, but the duty that had brought him to this encounter also showed in his intoxicating gaze.

"I will beat him, and then I will come back," he promised the loss and anxiety that Draco showed him.

"We will be waiting."

Both younger men turned and stared at Severus as he made his own promise that could have been a threat. Yet Harry did not rise to the bait, instead he glanced once more at his sire, and then headed for the door.


End file.
